Hunting For Personal Details
by PFT
Summary: What if the Sole Survivor was far less willing to divulge personal information in their interview?


A/N: For this story, I tried to leave the Sole Survivor with non-specific pronouns, to slot in whichever SS you have. Might be a little clunky, but I think it works.

Typically, in my Fallout 4 runs, my SS would do the interview- but what if they were less willing to divulge personal information?

* * *

Piper knew she shouldn't be in here. It was the only restriction that Blue had asked of anyone in Sanctuary- not to go into the house they lived in before the war without permission. From Piper's understanding, it was used as a base of operations; largely for Blue's travels, a bit for Minutemen planning- Preston was the other occupant, though he opted to set up in the former "laundry room"- "Reminds me of back home," he had said, "never was a lot of space for one person."

Blue was also notoriously strict when it came to that one rule. Marcy Long had, one day, decided to ignore Blue's request. When Blue found her using the couch for a nap, there was hell to pay. Marcy had spent most of the next month shuttling supplies between Sanctuary, the Abernathys, and Sunshine Tidings. Other settlers claimed that it would probably have been a trip or two had Marcy been able to tone down her abrasive personality for 5 minutes.

Even this threat wasn't enough to deter the only reporter in the Commonwealth.

Not only had her readership been hooked on stories of Blue's feats, but Piper found a genuine interest in the Sole Survivor of Vault 111. However, Blue wasn't too interested in divulging too many personal secrets. She had barely managed to get what little she had from rumors and passing comments. Of the companions following, Nick seemed to know the most about their pre-war compatriot- and Nick had refused to tell the reporter any of the secrets he knew.

Unfortunately for Piper's quest, Blue's room faced the road running through the settlement, and the curtains hadn't been closed, meaning that she could be easily spotted. Luckily for her, the settlers would start heading to the bar shortly, giving her a window to investigate. In the meantime, she briefly looked in Preston's room.

The dedicated Minuteman had very few possessions- not due to any vows, more a side effect of having spent weeks on the road trying to protect as many of the Quincy Survivors as he could. On the one wall, a Minuteman flag hung over a small desk with a pair of books on it. Knowing Preston, at least one of these books was of "After Action Reports." Flipping through it, she found nothing new that mattered to her task at hand- though maybe for material if she needed more "happy stories"- between Preston and Blue, the Minutemen had almost never failed a mission.

A letter fell out from between the books, piquing Piper's interest. Unfolding it, she found a love letter to Preston. _Maybe he'll find something to live for that isn't the Minutemen and the Commonwealth._ Carefully, she folded the letter back up and set it down on the desk. Opening the second book, she found it to be blank. Taking special care to return the books to the positions they were in, she looked around to see if there was anything else of interest. In a drawer, a few scraps of fabric, thread, and needles. In the drawer beneath that one, a hammer and wrench, a couple of assorted screws, and a half-eaten pack of snack cakes.

A quick glance at the working lock on the wall of the living room told her it was shortly after 6pm; the voices outside confirmed that most of the settlement's population was moving towards the bar or riverfront. While she waited for the street to clear, she figured that she would check the next room in the back.

What greeted her was a room that didn't seem to have been repaired- or more accurately, the furniture within. The walls were definitely repaired, as was the roof. The crib that met her was faded, and hanging over it on a spinner was a single rocket. Next to it was a dresser with a faded board book on it. A handful of scattered toys were still strewn about the floor, as was a baseball and glove. This puzzled Piper. Why would Blue give a kid baseball stuff? That seemed irresponsible.

Piper picked up the book, titled "You're Special!" A quick read proved that it was a pretty average board book, though she felt a little bit more intelligent after having read it. Turning her attention to the crib, she ran her hand along the side. Moving to the foot of the crib, she saw faded lettering at the foot. Squinting, she made out a very faint "Shau"- presumably that last letter was "n", making the name Shaun; though maybe Blue had named the child something else.

With the sounds of activity having moved to the bar and waterfront, Piper headed for her final destination- Blue's room. Blue didn't seem to have much in the room- not a surprise when one is out traveling a lot. A dresser stood in the corner, with a solitary Hubflower resting gently on top of it. The bed looked too clean, too big- _big enough for two_ , mused Piper. In any other house, the bed might have screamed 'Institute Replacement!' - barring the fact that the Institute replaced humans, not badly aged furniture. On the ceiling, a light attached to a ceiling fan with a small wire running outside, presumably toward the larger power lines.

The dresser seemed far less new than the bed, but the drawers opened easily to reveal a mismatch of clothes. A couple of jackets ( _A fondness for the Triggermen? Not what I expected out of Blue_ ), several blouses, a variety of pants, underwear, and socks. The lower drawer revealed some thicker, winter-style clothing.

Piper was brought out of her musing by voices coming up the road, which she recognized as those of a group of Minutemen. _Crap, Crap, CRAP!_ If they were Minutemen, the Blue and Preston weren't likely to be far behind, and she had no escape out of the house. Her best bet was-

She looked under the bed. It looked clean enough. Not that she had much of a choice. There was no way any of the Minutemen would take a bribe to forget that she was here- they were too dedicated to Blue- and the steps were getting closer.

Making up her mind, she dove under the bed and quickly curled up as far away from the edges as she could. While she had no doubt that the punishment for being caught would be less severe than one of McDonough's, she wasn't about ready to try and compare.

Outside, five sets of footsteps, a mumbled phrase that she _just_ couldn't make out, laughter. Five sets became one, and she thanked and cursed whatever higher powers there may be.

Best case scenario- Preston, setting something down, exiting to meet up with the others at the bar. Worst case- Blue, about ready to collapse into bed after a rough couple of days.

The front door opened and Piper caught her breath. The footsteps came down the hall unusually fast, then opened the door to Blue's room. Something was set on the dresser, and the steps went out of the room. In Preston's room, something hit the bed, followed by more footsteps out of the house and out the door. _Whomever that was, they were in a hurry._

Piper breathed a sigh of relief as the mystery being left the house. Piper didn't get out until she heard a loud cheer from the bar. The heroes of the Commonwealth had returned.

There was a small parcel on top of the dresser now, and though Piper wanted to know what was in there badly, she was going to be methodical and finish the old search before she found the new data.

Her hands brushed against a slightly cold, smooth object. Pulling it out, there was a mug. Piper looked at it quizzically. _Blue had been complaining about lacking Ceramics before setting out._ Stuffed inside was a bundle of cloth. Piper pulled it out. The cloth unfurled to reveal that it was two scraps sewn together- one of faded green cloth, the other of a presumably once white cloth. In the middle were a pair of gold bands, held to the cloth by several strings. As best she could, she examined the golden bands. They looked too perfect, too golden. Then again, these were probably made long before her time.

Carefully repacking and replacing the mug, Piper turned her attention to the parcel on the dresser. Carefully, she pulled out the contents. There appeared to be a trio of frames in the parcel.

The first frame Piper looked at showed a young Blue with people that, Piper assumed, were the parents. Presumably, this was an early family portrait, taken long before the war, in Blue's youth. They couldn't have been much older than Nat. The second had other figures, holding various drinks and laughing. They wouldn't have looked out of place in the Dugout Inn, though Piper wasn't sure who these "Red Sox" were. Clearly, they were important to the group, as all of them were wearing shirts depicting the name.

The last frame held two photos, and Piper nearly dropped the frame in shock. The main picture was of Blue and another- they were dressed in the kinds of clothing that one could have only dreamt about in the present day Commonwealth. Based on the people she'd seen leaving the Chapel across the way in Diamond City, she had to guess this was taken at their wedding.

The other picture, tucked in the corner, was of the same wildly grinning couple holding a banner saying "IT'S A BOY!"

Piper felt a shiver, and not due to the chilly November breezes. While she would have liked to stay and think, she had to get out before everyone else got out of the bar. Repacking and taking a moment to double check everything's location, Piper listened for any noises near Blue's house. Hearing nothing, she quietly made her way out of the house.

As far as she knew, she was in the clear. She hadn't been seen on her way out of the house and was able to get to the Riverfront without running into anyone. Only another pair of people were there, but they seemed more interested in each other than the new arrival to the waterfront. Judging from the commotion still at the bar

Piper just sat there staring out into the twilight dimness of the Commonwealth, processing what she had found. Life had found a way to take everything one could imagine and then some, thrusting Blue into a strange, yet familiar landscape, just as an eternal reminder of what they had and lost.

By the light of the streetlamps on the Sanctuary Riverfront, she began to write.

 _ **Untitled Article (For December 2287 Publick?)**_

 _ **By Piper Wright**_

 _ **As the year 2287 reaches its final strides, I would like to talk about our hero, the Vault Dweller. For the past several weeks, we have heard nothing but success after success from them and the Minutemen now under their control. However, we know little of them beyond this. Today, I'd like to talk briefly about them.**_

 _ **No other person has ever come out from Vault 111, just beyond the safe reaches of Sanctuary, at least, none until some weeks ago. When asked for a brief interview, they declined to respond to most of the personal questions. This raised some concern among readers.**_

 _ **Since then, these fears have been abated in spades. Not only have the Minutemen begun to stabilize the eastern Commonwealth under their leadership, but several rescues have occurred when Diamond City residents have gotten into trouble, notably Vadim Bobrov and Nick Valentine.**_

 _ **What seems stunning is that this Knight in Blue Armor's past would be enough to turn even the nicest Diamond City resident against the world. In a matter of what must have seemed like mere minutes, everything was taken from them. Thrust into a world that lived in the remains of his, as a brutal reminder of what had been taken.**_

Piper looked up from her writing, notebook in her hands. _There is no way I can publish this without alerting Blue._ She sighed. _Should I stop? No. Even if this goes unpublished, it needs to be written down._

 _ **In a forgotten corner of the Commonwealth lies a dead spouse. The other half in shock and mourning. No one knows how long it has been as time has passed out here, but the memory is barely a month old. Perhaps this is why we wonder if the Vault Dweller is the real-life Grognak. Perhaps the superhuman efforts are undertaken to forget all the loss, the pain, the misery.**_

 _ **But there is hope. Somewhere out there is a son. And of the few words we were able to report when we first met them, "No matter how much you want to give up, don't. You have to have hope. That you'll see them again. Or at least, that you'll know the truth."**_


End file.
